Raccoon City: No man's land
by Bottle Rocket Junkie
Summary: The story of R.P.D. homicide detective Ryan Brewer during the Raccoon City T-Virus outbreak. Rated R for graphic content and dialogue. R and R please, constructive criticism welcomed.. Ch 3 is up
1. THe Beggining

****

Raccoon City: No Man's land.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the resident evil series, Capcom does. All I own is this story, Jack Brewer and Nathan Brewer. I am following the RE1 plot from the original game and the book by S.D. Perry not the remake.

Imagine a city, a thriving urban sprawl. At the same time it is also a very respectable town, a nice place to raise a family; The real life example of the American dream on September 25th. Now fast forward 3 days late, September 28th The same city, the real life example of the American dream is in ruins. Fires rage all around the city, broken glass and debris clutter the streets along with empty Brass bullet casings. And all through the air you hear and smell death itself. The hungry moans of the undead amble awkwardly toward you, they sniff you down like a dog. Your only friend in a place like this is Mr. 9mm, or Mr. 12 gauge, or Mr. Machine Gun. This city, once the American Dream, is now Raccoon City; No Man's land.

September 26th, 1998- 6:50 P.M.

Bar Jack's, Downtown Raccoon City

My story begins in bar jacks, a small friendly tavern smack dab in downtown Raccoon City. It was the end of my shift at the Raccoon City police department, as Detective Ryan Brewer, homicide investigations. Now I was off duty, and to the world known only as Ryan Brewer. I had a brother in S.W.A.T, Lieutenant Nathan Brewer. It was strange seeing as to why Raccoon City had a S.W.A.T team to begin with. No major incidents ever really happened here, well there was that hostage situation at the hospital back in June; but that was taken care of by the S.T.A.R.S alpha team. I guess having a S.W.A.T. team was some mandatory regulation or something, I think though it was on special request by Umbrella or something. I'm not quite sure because it's not my field. I myself deal in straight up homicides.

Like last summer, that was pretty crazy ass shit. Gruesome homicides started popping up in the Arklay Mountains in early June late may. Hikers were found dead, gnawed on in fact. The coroner determined cannibalism, and then that's when the S.T.A.R.S came. They had two teams, Alpha and Bravo. They were tough hot shot shit, nothing compared to S.W.A.T. Basically comprised of Ex-Marines, delta force and whatever bad ass spec-ops team you could think of. There was this rumor that this one person on Alpha team, Jill Valentine is the daughter of Dick Valentine. He's a notorious criminal and escape artist, who now resides in San Quentin penitentiary. They say he taught her everything he knows about picking locks, and is the reason why her team refers to her as the proverbial " Master of Un-locking."

Anyway back in late July I believe. Bravo team, the lesser half of the S.T.A.R.S Raccoon branch went up into the Arklay Mountains to investigate an area where the cannibals were traced. Reports say they were a group of about 10-15 people, who traveled in packs, while other reports say they were a pack of feral German Shepherds that traveled in packs of unknown numbers. Bravo's helicopter went down thanks to some engine trouble, and Alpha team was called in. They found Bravo's helicopter downed in a field, along with all their equipment; which was highly strange. Alpha teams report say they were soon attacked by a pack of wild dogs, which attacked and killed Joseph Frost, Alpha team's vehicle specialist. The rest of the team, Capt. Albert Wesker, Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield and Barry Burton; were left stranded by their fleeing helicopter pilot Brad " Chicken Heart" Vickers. Outnumbered by the dogs, Alpha team sought refuge in the Spencer estate. An old abandoned mansion in the middle of the mountains.

However the mansion wasn't abandoned. From Alpha teams report, it says they found strange and horrifying creatures inside the estate, ranging from Zombies to large spiders. Along with that, the bodies of Bravo team members Forrest Speyer who was pecked to death by crows, Kenneth Sullivan who was killed by a "zombie" as Jill valentine had described it, and Richard Aiken who was bitten by a large snake and died form extreme poisoning. Chris Redfield found Rebecca Chambers, Bravo team's rookie medic, hiding in a storage room. In tunnels below the estate, Barry Burton and Jill Valentine found Enrico Marini, who was seriously wounded. He tried to warn them of a traitor amongst them, but was then killed by and unknown shooter.

The report details about a secret laboratory below the estate, owned by Umbrella. There the remaining S.T.A.R.S found out Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, a major financier of Raccoon City, was creating Bio Organic weapons for sale to the highest bidder. The thing that had created the creatures and zombies roaming the estate was called the Tyrant Virus- or T-Virus for short, and was also created by Umbrella. They also learned that Albert Wesker, Alpha team's captain had lured them to the estate for battle data purposes, and that he was secretly working for Umbrella. He then introduced them to the Tyrant, an foot tall humanoid B.O.W. Of course Barry and Jill defeated the beast, but not before it Impaled and killed Capt. Wesker. A self-destruct sequence activated in the labs and the remaining S.T.A.R.S hurried to the heliport to meet up with their ride out of their- Brad Vickers. Again on the heliport they ran into the Tyrant, but it was defeated once more by Jill Valentine, aided by the help of a rocket launcher from Brad. Just as the survivors lifted off and flew away, the Spencer estate and the labs blew up. Only 4 survived that night; Barry, Chris, Jill and Rebecca if you don't include Brad.

Chief Irons totally dismissed the case though, and he put all five of them on suspension. Chambers went to Maine, Burton and Redfield went to Europe to track down Umbrella and Vickers and Valentine stayed in Raccoon for the mean time. Everyone, who heard the story thought it was bullshit, I did too. But then Homicides started popping up more and more and closer and closer to the city…

So anyway my story starts in Bar Jacks, on September 26th 1998. I pulled my battered Sedan up to the curb in across the street from the bar, and got out. The sun was starting to set in the sky, bathing the city in twilight. I was dressed in my usual; White dress shirt over a white under shirt, Black tie, Black pants, Black shoes and a black leather jacket. Below my jacket I carried my piece; a black Berretta M92FS 9mm in a leather shoulder holster. Usually when you're off duty you don't carry your gun around with you unless it's an off-duty pistol. But at Bar Jacks, Ted the owner has paranoia about being robbed so he gives a 50% discount to cops who carried in his bar.

I walked briskly across the street and down the short set of steps that led into Bar Jacks, and opened the door and walked inside. Business looked slow tonight. There was maybe one customer at the counter sitting next to the register, another guy was arguing with his girlfriend on the pay phone. Ted stood behind the counter wiping out a glass. He was stocky and clean-shaven. His head was shaved bald. I sat at the opposite end of the counter and noticed the Tv was turned to the local news, which currently was predicting rain in the next couple days. Ted took notice of me and walked over.

" Hey Brewer!" He said cheerfully. " What will it be?"

" Sam Adams." I muttered. In a bottle."

" Coming right up." He replied and reached below the counter. He returned a second later, with a bottle of Sam Adams in one hand and a bottle opener in the other. He popper the cap of the bottle, which it fell on the counter with a clink, and placed it in front of me.

" Thanks, put it on my tab Ted." I replied.

He nodded and turned away. I ran my fingers through my short Dark brown hair and took a sip of my beer, when all of a sudden the tv caught my attention, in fact it had caught everyone's attention:

" This just in. We seem to have live footage from Cole Street where as of right now a cannibal murder has just happened, and still is happening. This footage is extremely graphic and not for the weak of heart and only for mature viewers only. Viewer discretion is advised."

The scene changed from the news studio to Cole street, where a small crowd was gathering at a police barricade where a couple of uniforms stood with their weapons drawn on a figure hunched over a body lying on the ground. The reporter Brendan Hunt a stout balding man with horn-rimmed glasses stood in front of the camera holding a microphone. The word LIVE was planted in the top right corner of the screen. Hunt finally spoke.

" This is Brendan Hunt Raccoon News live on the scene here at Cole St. It appears that about 15 minutes ago a pedestrian crossing the street was attacked and killed by what appears to be on of the cannibals from the Arklay murders. And right now literally the cannibal is still eating away at the poor woman who is most likely dead.

" Listen I'm telling you I didn't sleep with her!" The man on the phone was pleading with his girlfriend.

" Hey shut the hell up I'm trying to watch this!" Yelled the old man sitting next to the register.

The guy on the phone did.

The camera zoomed in past the barricade where I could make out the person lying on the ground but not the cannibal. She had shoulder length brown hair and was wearing a white blouse that was soaked with her own blood which poured out from a wound in her stomach. Just then the camera shook around a bit.

" Hey get the hell out of here!" Came a gruff voice as a hand blacked out the camera's lens.

" Oh My god its getting up!" Someone screamed. I couldn't see what was going on. All of a sudden 9mm gunshots filled the air, and someone screamed. The lens stopped being blacked out and I could see what was happening. The cannibal now had his grips on one of the officers, with the other 3 still aiming their sidearm at it.

And that's when I saw it.

The cannibal was actually a zombie. His skin was a rotten and ashy mix, chunks of it missing from its body. Its fingers were bony as it clutched on to the struggling officer's shoulders. Its hair was matted with dirt and it's clothes, which consisted of a black T-shirt, and blue jeans were tattered and torn. Its eyes were horrifying, they were black rimmed, white milky and soulless. The officer let out a scream as the creatures opened jaw fought to take a chunk out of him. The other officers fired on the zombie, the 9mm hollow points tearing into the abomination's back spewing blood everywhere. The creature let go of the rookie and staggered back, moaning. He turned to the other officer's who still had their weapons trained on him, and it lurched towards them.

" Take him down!" One officer screamed. They all fired on him, the rounds tearing into the zombie with a sickening smack. The creature finally fell on its back, dead. The rookie clutched at his shoulder, which it looked like the cannibal had taken a good chunk out of. The same hand blacked out the lens and the transmission ended. The scene was now back in the news studio.

We have been receiving reports now that more cannibal attacks have been popping up all over the city." The anchorman reported. _" The police advise all civilians to lock themselves in their house and stay indoors until the police have taken care of the matter. We will now go to our regularly scheduled programming, and report back with more information as we receive it."_

And with that the news report ended. Everyone in the bar including myself was staring wide-eyed at the Tv in shock. I shook myself out of my daze and snapped at the old man and the guy on the phone;

" You heard the news! Go home!"

The guy on the phone hung up the receiver and the old man got up from his seat, they both hurried out the front door.

" Why the hell are you chasing my customers out Brewer?" Ted asked me, in shock.

" Ted you have a gun?" I asked him.

" Yeah." He replied holding up a Nickel-plated Colt .45 and one matching clip, which he pulled out form under the counter. " What's this all about?"

" Listen I have to go back to the precinct." I said getting up. " Load your gun and lock the doors."

" Yeah. Okay." He nodded.

" What about your wife and kids?" I asked. " Are they at home?"

" No Shelly and the kids are in Lantham visiting Shelly's mom." He muttered.

" Okay listen, If you can get your ass home. You live close by right?"

" Yeah just around the block."

" Okay stay here." I commanded heading out the door.

" What is this all about?" He yelled after me.

" The cannibals obviously, just stay inside." I shouted back closing the door behind me. A second later I heard it lock. I strode across the street up to my battered sedan and unlocked the door when I got a call on my cell phone. I sighed and pulled it out of the pocket of my leather jacket, flipping it open.

" Hello?" I breathed.

" Brewer this is Warner." Came the voice of my partner Frank Warner. " Chief wants you back in the precinct, there's been some cannibal attacks-."

" Yeah I know." I said cutting him off. " I watched the Cole street thing on the news. I was just coming over there anyway."

" Okay. I'll meet you in the parking lot in 15 minutes then?" He asked.

" Sure." I replied. I flipped the cell phone shut and got into the car. I turned the key in the ignition and took off.

This is only the beginning. I thought to myself.

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. The Precinct and the Press conference

****

Chapter Two: The precinct and the press conference

September 26th, 1998- 7:15 p.m.

Raccoon City Police department-parking lot

I pulled my Oldsmobile up next to the curb, parking it and stepping out. The sun had gone down and the sky had turned to dusk. I walked around the beaten car and up to the back gate, with my key in hand. Unlocking the gate door, I walked through finding Warner standing around talking to the parking lot guard about football this season. He noticed me and said his good-byes to the guard and hurried over to me. Frank Warner was a tall, lanky, brown skinned African American in his mid forties. He wore a dark Grey suit and tie, and had a goatee. He was taller by me by about 6 inches at 6 foot 3.

" C'mon let's go." He commanded tugging at my arm.

" Where?" I asked.

" Get ya cleaned up a bit." He replied pulling me towards the underground parking lot. " There's a press conference, about the cannibal attacks."

" How many have we had so far, inside the city?" I asked him as we walked through the parking garage.

" 9 so far." He replied holding the door into the basement open. We walked past the arm storage and past the generator room into the little hallway that connected with the stairs, and then up the stairs. We walked through the detectives division where everyone was running about, talking on phones and writing down information. Frank took me out into the east wing hall and into the men's bathroom. He stood by me as I splashed cold water on my face, and tore off a piece of paper towel from the dispenser to dry my face.

" Didn't your mama ever teach you how to dress?" Frank asked looking at my leather jacket disgustingly. " And tuck in your shirt."

" I don't ever tuck in my shirt." I replied crumpling up the paper towel and throwing it away. I looked in the mirror at my face, which needed shaved pretty badly. My hair was medium length and parted in the middle. Not too bad, not too bad at all.

" So why am I needed at this press conference anyway?" I muttered straightening my tie. " Isn't that Alpha team's case?"

" Nope, they were suspended remember?" Frank reminded me as we walked out the door. " Homicide has to pick up there half now. Leave the grunt work to S.W.A.T."

" Hey isn't Jill Valentine still in town?" I asked as we walked down the hall towards the conference room. I had to admit I had a thing for Jill, but didn't every guy?

" Yeah I think she's up in the S.T.A.R.S office getting some stuff." Frank replied checking his watch.

" I'll have to go up there and say hello." I piped opening the door into the conference room for Frank. We both walked in as Mayor Warren was up at the podium going through his long-winded speech about how the cannibal attacks are a major unfortunate tragedy and how the attacks would be taken care of and put to rest once and for all. Smug prick, of course everyone could see he was talking out through his ass. Behind him all alone sitting at a folding table was Chief Brian Irons. Frank sat down next to him.

" And now I will open the floor for questions to Detective Brewer, head of the cannibal case." Mayor Warren said

and sat down next to Frank. I was up now to answer the jackal's questions. The room was full of reporters holding notepads or tape recorders and cameramen holding cameras, standing room only. I stepped up to the podium and cleared my throat. I wasn't prepared for this, but I had a good chance at answering all the questions.

" If there are any questions at this time I will gladly entertain them." I spoke into the microphone. As if on cue a million hands flew up. I pointed to a stout balding man all the hands went down.

" Based on the S.T.A.R.S report, are these cannibal attacks related to the Spencer estate conspiracy in anyway?" He asked me.

" As of this time we are uncertain about that." I said. " Next question?"

The hands shot up again. I picked a female reporter in a black suit and tie with auburn hair. The hands went down.

" Is it true that Ben Bertolucci is being held in police custody for having knowledge of a tie to the Spencer estate conspiracy and someone in the local government?" She asked me.

" No. This is highly not true. Ben Bertolucci is being held in police custody for breaking into the station." I replied. " Next question?"

The hands shot up again, and for the entire press conference that's how it went. By my 12th question chief Irons got up and interrupted me.

" Okay I believe that has been enough questions for right now. I assure you all and the citizens of Raccoon City that the police have this situation under control." Irons spoke into the microphone. " Now go home to your loved ones, and remember the 9 o'clock curfew is still in effect. Goodnight."

One by one the reporters and cameramen left through the door, some talking among themselves. They seemed satisfied, more than doubtful. I'd probably find out tomorrow in the papers. Irons walked up to and held out his hand, I shook it.

" Good job Brewer, I think you bought us some time." Irons said in a low voice as the jackals filed out through the door. " Listen I'd hate to have to do this to you, but you're on duty now. Everyone in the station is until this whole thing blows over."

" No problem sir." I replied. " I've nothing else to do at the moment. And I was coming back here anyway."

Irons nodded and walked off as the last cameraman stepped out the door. Michael Warren stepped up to me and shook my hand.

" I have full confidence that that the Raccoon City police department will be able to handle this situation." He said, just like he said before. " Keep up the good work."

He walked away and I found Frank leaning against the empty gas burning stone, which was ridiculously put in the corner of the pressroom for no apparent reason. The stove belonged to a set of 3 gas burners that ran along the wall behind the podium. Another piece that was completely out of place was the chariot portrait in the far back corner, with the metal cog piece built into it. Frank stood up as I approached him.

" Man you look tired." He commented eyeballing me.

" What time is it?" I asked rubbing my temples.

" 7:23." He replied. " Wanna go grab a bite to eat?"

" Yeah sure why the hell not."

As we were walking back to the garage we heard a scream echo from the morgue. Frank and I ran to the double doors just as the coroner, Jason Dinnalli burst through them. He was clutching a bloody scalpel, and his white jacket was smeared in crimson red streaks. I ran up to him and crouched down next to him, as he was covering on the floor hunched up.

" What is it?" I asked him.

He pointed through the open doors with a shaky finger. I looked and found the same terrifying face I had sawn on Tv. It was a different person thought, but none the less a zombie covered in tattered jeans, its dark greasy hair hung limp. Rotting decayed flesh, bony fingers, and milky white eyes. It ambled towards us with its arms outstretched. I jumped up and reached under my coat, drawing my Berretta and aiming it at the creature.

" Stay back!" I commanded. Of course it wasn't listening. " I'm warning you!" I shouted but to no avail. It kept coming for me. I flipped off the safety and cocked back the hammer. And for a brief second I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

And that's when it lunged for me.

I woke up form my trance and pulled the trigger as the zombies open jaw dove for my abdomen. The 9mm hollow point punched into its jaw, knocking it back. The zombie stumbled back, and came at me again. I aimed at it's chest and pulled the trigger.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!

The gunshots echoed off the cold cement walls, and the muzzle fire strobe in the hallway. The creature was pushed back by the gunshots into the morgue and fell over backwards; knocking over a tray of autopsy tools lying on the table, scattering them all over the floor. The creature let out oomph and a moan and just lay there on the floor not moving. I turned back to Jason, my Berretta empty and smoking, and I offered him my hand to help him get up.

" Brewer watch out!" Frank yelled at me. I turned to see him lunge at me, knocking me over. I landed on my back and watched as he raised his Smith and Wesson Model 29, and fired into the morgue.

BLAM!

The .44 round was deafening, as it traveled and landed with a hard sickening, wet smack into the zombie. I got up and dusted myself off. I peeked around the corner into the morgue, the zombie now lay on the ground like before among the sanitized scalpels and sutures. But now the upper half of his head was missing, leaving behind a ragged bloody hole and a splatter of brain matter dripping off the temperature controlled body lockers. I cringed at the sight, and turned to the coroner.

" You bit?" I asked him. He shook his head no. All off a sudden a bunch of patrol cops ran out into the hallway, their weapons drawn. Patrol cops were different from the cops who worked in the department. See the patrol cops were issued high hazard uniforms with kevlar attached to them. On the torso, back and shoulders basically. They were all blue with R.P.D. printed on the front and their badge attached to their right upper arm. They were also were issued a new sidearm; H&K VP70's. The city bought them surplus in liquidation, now that the company heckler and Koch put them out of production. Not only that but they were a good reliable gun, 18 rounds one in the chamber. The desk cops still carried their old Browning High Power 9mm's. This was all instated for the patrol cops soon after the cannibal attacks broke out, seeing as they were in the field and needed better firepower. Leading the Patrol boys was chief Irons.

" Whats going on here?!" He demanded.

" He was attacked by a cannibal sir." I replied standing up and jamming my gun into my holster. Which then I noticed it was still unloaded. I ejected the clip and pulled out a fresh one from the holder under my left arm in my shoulder holster.

" Was he bitten?" Irons asked.

" No sir." I replied slamming a fresh clip into gun and chambering a round. I flipped the safety back on and snapped the gun back into its holster.

" Good work detectives." Irons said shaking my hand and Frank's as he pulled Dinalli. The patrol guys holstered their weapons and clapped their hands. As Frank and I were walking away Irons took a radio from one of the patrol guys and spoke into it.

" Get CSI down here in the morgue." He commanded the dispatcher. " We've got one hell of a mess down here."

Which oddly reminded me I wanted to dorp in and say hi to Jill.

" Hey Frank I'll meet you at Grill 13." I said walking away from him as we reached the garage door.

" Where you going?" He asked me.

" There's someone I need to see." I shot back over my shoulder.

Just as I had figured I had found Jill in the S.T.A.R.S office. She was sitting at her computer flipping through files when I walked in. Immediately on a reflex she closed the file, but then saw it was me.

" Oh hey, Brewer." She said with a sigh of relief, and opened the file back up again. She knew pretty ok from working on the Arklay case together.

" Whats up?" I asked looking over her shoulder to see what was on the screen.

" Oh just grabbing a few things out of the office before I leave for Europe." She said. She was wearing a Dark Blue R.P.D T-shirt and a pair of Blue jeans. I noticed sitting next to her chair on the floor was a file box filled with various things.

" What's all this?" I asked looking through the stuff. Mostly diaries and journals, manuals. Old files and reports related to the Arklay mountain cases.

" Oh just some stuff that Barry and Chris want me to bring to Europe." She replied. I reached into the box and pulled out a stainless steel plated Colt Python .357.

" Just some stuff huh?" I asked playfully, holding up the revolver. She let out a chuckle and stole the revolver back, throwing it into the box with the rest of the things.

" It's Barry's." She replied. " He asked me to mail it to Europe for him, considering it's his. There's also a few model Airsoft pistols he made in that box, you know like the S.T.A.R.S Samurai edge and stuff. Sort of sentimental value for him."

" So why aren't you taking anything else in here?" I asked motioning to the stuff on the desks and the trophies on the shelf. I noticed the team picture hanging next to the Raccoon City PD picture.

" Oh I'm having some people come in here and pack up the rest of the personal possessions." She replied popping a minidisk out of the computer, and shutting the PC off. She put the disk into a plastic case and dropped it into the box with the other things.

" Hey I have a question." I muttered.

" Hmm?" She asked picking up the box and heading towards the door.

" Jill this might be a sore subject for you, but when you guys were in the mansion. The cannibal zombies you encountered, if one bit you did you change into a zombie?" I asked her. She looked at me and set her box down on the computer desk next to the door.

" Yeah." She replied, digging through the box. " Basically if a human is infected with the T-virus in any way they turn into a zombie. Luckily we got there after the virus was spread airborne and we weren't infected." She pulled out a half-inch thick black binder, marked SPENCER ESTATE INCIDENT, JULY 1998, and handed it to me. " That's the entire case. The story told through each of the surviving members eyes, the files collected that were related to the umbrella B.O.W experiments and so forth. Basically almost everything of what happened there that night. Even floor plans." She explained.

" Thanks." I replied looking at the binder.

" Don't mention it. Why did you ask anyway?" She replied.

" Well there was a cannibal my partner and I gunned down downstairs in the morgue." I replied. " I was just wondering incase one of those fuckers bit me."

" Ah." She replied. " I heard the shots, I was wondering what was going on, and then I heard the call through the switchboard right there." She finished motioning to the switchboard next to the gun safe.

" Hey can I help you carry your stuff to your car?" I asked holding out my hand.

" Sure." She replied handing me the file box. It was heavy but I could carry it. She held the door open for me as I walked through and she shut it behind her locking it with the S.T.A.R.S office custom emblem key.

" Wait a second!" I exclaimed. " Don't you want that team photo of Bravo and Alpha?"

" No." She replied. " I think it's time to move on. The Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S are dead."

We reached Jill's car parked outside in the back, a 76 Red Gremlin parked in front of my battered Olds. She opened the back hatch, and I noticed her shirt lift up a little and a Compact Glock tucked in the waistband of her jeans.

" Carrying some protection huh?" I asked placing the box inside the trunk.

" This little thing of course?" She asked holding the gun out in the palm of her hand. " It's a Glock 19, good for concealment. Sides if I ran into a zombie. I'd rather have a .44 or .45 caliber. If possible a .357, but hey even my standard issue Berretta M92FS would be better than this Glock." She slammed the trunk lid closed and slipped the gun back into her waistband. I followed her to the driver's side door and opened it for her. She replied with a simple "thank-you" and got in, I closed the door

" So when are you leaving for Europe?" I asked her through the rolled down window.

" Tomorrow." she replied.

" Wow I'm really going to miss you." I replied. " We never really go to know each other that well."

" Same here." She replied with a sigh. " Listen there's something I want you to have."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Nickel Plated zippo lighter, and handed it to me. I looked at it, on it was an engraving of an angel throwing an atom bomb. The words; " MADE IN HEAVEN" were engraved in a circle around the picture. On the back it said in cursive letters _To Jill._

" Wow Jill I can't take this." I said handing it back to her. She didn't accept it.

" Keep it, I want you to remember me by it." She said starting the car. " See you around Brewer."

" Right back at you." I replied.

She put the car in gear and drove off down Hazel Street and then turned the corner onto Joel Avenue. I looked at the zippo for a while then pocketed. I remembered I was meeting Frank at the Grill 13.

Jill was one hell of a woman, I could tell that right now. Maybe one day we would meet again…maybe…

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. The Grill 13 incident and a shocking rev...

****

Chapter 3: Pandemonium

September 26th, 1998- 7:55 P.M.

Grill 13, Downtown Raccoon City.

I pulled my Olds up next to the curb outside grill 13. It had taken me about 35 minutes from the precinct to grill 13, pushing through the traffic that littered the streets of downtown Raccoon. The business district of Raccoon, which consisted of Uptown Raccoon and Downtown Raccoon, was in complete pandemonium. People raced home trying to beat the 9 o'clock curfew, while businesses closed shop early. I was the only casual stroller, grill 13 hadn't closed yet and in fact it never closed, opened 24 hours.

I walked through the double doors of the diner and looked around, there weren't many people in the place but tell me something else new; with the cannibal attacks going on and such. There was a guy sitting in a both in the far corner to my right, which I found out to be Frank. I walked over to him and sat down across from him in the booth. He sat reading a copy of the Raccoon Times and nursing a cup of coffee. His radio was lying next to him on the table, spewing out a mixture of static and chatter. I picked up a menu and leafed through it.

" Any word on the cannibal attacks?" I asked him.

" 3 more in the last hour." He replied frowning at the paper. he folded up his newspaper and taking a sip of his coffee. "It's being broad-casted live on the local news." He pointed to a Tv mounted in the opposite corner. There was a 21 FIRST ACTION NEWS placeholder on the screen at the moment. A large, portly waitress bustled over to our table.

" Can I take your order?" She asked.

" Coffee." I replied.

" Anything else?"

" No. Not now." I finished.

She gave me an odd look and hustled away. I rubbed my temples, I had a hell of a headache.

" Got any aspirin?" I asked Frank.

" Huh?" He asked, looking up from his coffee.

" Aspirin. Got any?" I repeated.

" Yeah sure. Here"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white bottle of Safsprin. I popped off the lid and gulped down too, the medicinal taste sticking to the roof of my mouth, bitter.

" How's your brother Ryan?" Frank asked me.

" Nathan? He's fine. He just got promoted to Lieutenant."

" I notice he's a bit young to be in S.W.A.T. Say how old is he?"

" About 23, 2 years younger than me." I replied. The waitress came back with a cup and a pot of coffee and poured me a cup. I thanked her as she walked away. " The only reason why he's in swat is because he was in the corps for 4 years before then. Why did you ask anyway?"

" Well considering if we have a mass outbreak of cannibals, the chief will most definitely call in swat." Frank replied.

" Ah crud." I replied. " Just what ma needs, another dead cop in the family."

" What do you mean?" Frank asked me.

" My dad was N.Y.P.D." I replied relating an old story. " He was killed on duty in a drug bust. It was some Rastifarian punk dealer with an Uzi that got him. Just 5 years ago too, Ma was devastated."

" Wow." Frank said in awe. "I'm sorry."

" Don't really matter." Replied. " Nathan was always liked by my old man more than me. I more came from my ma's side. He sent me to the academy though, but I never joined the nypd. Nathan was always close to me for some odd reason so he left the corps and joined the R.P.D. swat. Go figure."

Suddenly two gunshots rang out in the distance, sounded like from behind the resturaunt.

" The hell?" Frank said craning his neck to look out the window. Suddenly a crash rang out in the kitchen, it sounded like a door being slammed opened, and then another of a stack of plates being shattered. Somebody in the kitchen started screaming

" HOLY SH- AGGH AGGH! HELP ME SOMEBODYPLEASE HE-." The screaming was cut short by the sound of sinew and muscle being torn apart.

" Fuck! Kid let's get out of here." Frank said picking up his radio and pocketing it.

" No I'm going to go see what it is!" I replied pulling out my Berreta. I kept it pointed to the floor and hurried over to the kitchen entrance. I looked through the small order window into the kitchen. All I could see was the face of a man lying on the floor, the lower half of this body shrouded by a metal counter. He had greasy string hair, and a pudgy face, he was probably the cook. I could here something, like a dog's teeth tearing into a raw bloody steak.

" Cripes another one." I breathed. I flipped the safety off my Berreta and slowly walked around the corner. It seemed deserted in the kitchen, the only sounds were hamburgers frying on the grill and the wet smacking shredding sound. I slowly inched around the corner-

And I came face to face with it.

The creatures hair was matted with dirt and grime and it's skin was ashy and decaying, just like the zombie I had put down in the morgue, but instead it wore a black business suit. It's bony fingers clutched onto my shoulders as it's yellowed gleaming teeth inched closer and closer to my neck!

" FUCK OFF!" I screamed, using my free hands to fire into its abdomen. The zombie staggered back after 4 shots, and fell backwards knocking into another cannibal munching on the cook lying on the floor. The one on the floor looked up at me with its soulless eyes, blood splattered all over its face, it's clothes were tattered. It let out a moan of sorrow and hunger.

And then I noticed we were fucked.

The grill was filling up with the undead as the filed in through the back door, it looked like there were 6 or so of them in the kitchen. They all had the same decayed skin and soulless eyes, wearing tattered remnants of clothing that was splattered with blood from the wounds on their necks or their chests or there stomachs. I turned and fled, Frank stood in the doorway into the dining area, his .44 drawn. I slammed into him and pulled him along.

" Let's get the fuck out of here!" I screamed, dragging him along like a dog. He stumbled along behind me, his tie flailing.

I slammed through the entrance doors into the dark September night. I looked down the street at where the construction was going on down near the movie theater and saw a group of more zombies, maybe about 4, stumbling towards us; in the light of the marquee. Frank ran to his car, which was a brand new Cadillac and much nicer than my olds, and started fumbling with the keys. He dropped them and let out a curse, crouching down to retrieve them he didn't notice the zombies stumbling towards him from inside the Restaurant.

" Frank forget the car and let's go!" I screamed dragging him up off the ground. A zombie wearing overalls from the Restaurant group lurched ahead, stumbling over and falling on its face. It gripped my partner's leg, and inched forward straining to take a chomp out of his leg.

" Shit!" Frank screamed, firing at the zombies. The .44 slug tearing straight through its skull, splattering brain matter all over Frank's pant leg.

" This is a new fucking suit!" Frank screamed rather futile at the corpse on the ground. I yanked him over to my car on the curb, on the other side of the street opposite the grill and plunked him down on the sidewalk, his back leaning to the passenger's side door. I holstered my piece and pulled my car keys out, walking over to the trunk. I unlocked the trunk and pulled out my ride along shotgun; a Remington 870 with a pistol grip and no stock, an R.P.D issue scattergun. I then walked back over and pulled Frank up off the ground, smacking him out of his daze. The undead were getting closer.

" Get in." I commanded yanking the passenger side door open. He nodded quickly and got in obediently. I guess different people act differently in various situations, but this is an outbreak not psychology 101.

I jumped up on top of the hood and fired at the closest zombies; a shell of a man wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. The shotgun blast sent it reeling back into the other group. I racked another shell into the chamber and hopped off the hood. The grill pack kept coming towards me, walking right over the guy in the t-shirt, which I had successfully tore a hole into his stomach with a round of buckshot. I aimed at the group and fired again, the shot tearing into two of the lead ones knocking them back. The last three kept coming towards me. I yanked over the driver's side door and jumped in slamming it shut.

" Time to go." I said handing the shotgun over to Frank. He took it and holstered his revolver. I started the engine and gunned it. Frank switched on his radio and made a call out.

" This is car 508, we have a code 4-1 I repeat a code 4-1. Retreatign due to overwhelming numbers of cannibals. Requesting backup at Grill 13 in Downtown Raccoon City to avoi9d further attacks."

September 26th, 1998- 8:06 p.m.

R.P.D front gates, Downtown Raccoon City

My car lurched to a sudden stop as we pulled up in front of the precinct. Night had fallen, and the dark clouds were mixing in with gray ones, in the distance I could hear gunshots. The day of judgement was unfolding right before our very eyes. I put the car in park and stopped Frank from getting out.

" What?" He asked surprised.

" Got your back-up?" I asked him.

" Listen, I may be getting old but I don't forget my gun at home. So don't lecture me rookie, I ain't that feeble minded."

" Rookie? I asked. " Who just saved your ass back there?"

" I could've handled it on my own, so stop treating me like an old man!" He barked.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a Kahr P9, with a nickel-plated slide and a black matte' frame. I also had the same one, my uncle a former cop in the N.Y.P.D., bought me a pair of those guns as a graduation gift. I gave one to Frank when the chief started yelling at him for not carrying a backup piece and his old .38 snub nose revolver kept failing on him. Which even I admitted, it was strange for a Smith and Wesson cylinder to swing open when firing. I guess it was a manufacturer defect. He now carried the Kahr P9 in a holster on his belt.

" Happy he asked?" Putting the gun back. I nodded.

" That means I get the shotgun." I said finally getting out of the car. Frank just looked at me all steamed and followed suit. I yanked open the rusting doors to the courtyard, and walked on through with Frank at my heels as the gate banged shut behind us. Sitting on one of the low walls next to the grassy part were two patrol guys, drinking coffee. One had a buzz cut and that other was unshaven and had lengthy hair, I think his name was Kevin but I didn't know who the one with the buzz cut.

" Pretty messed up shift today eh?" Kevin asked the buzz cut, sipping his coffee as we plodded past. The one with the buzz cut replied nodding his head and said:

" Yeah, I had to work two bloody shifts today! Back to back." The buzz cut replied with his arms folded across his chest. " I wonder when that new guy Leon gets here…"

We walked into the main lobby of the police precinct, the place was in disarray. Desk cops and patrol boys walked to and throe between the east and west wing. The all call intercom was working, spewing out directions and orders. Frank headed over to the East wing door.

" Hey I'll catch up with you later okay?" He called back to me. I nodded as he pulled the door open and stepped through.

__

" Attention, all Primary S.W.A.T. Members are on call and to be dispatched to the Raccoon City shopping mall in 20 minutes. All secondary kit-up S.W.A.T. teams are on standby. All shifts are now running over time. Repeat, all Primary S.W.A.T. Members are on call and to be dispatched to the Raccoon City shopping mall in 20 minutes. All secondary kit-up S.W.A.T. teams are on standby. All shifts are now running over time" Came one of the calls. I was shocked when I heard primary S.W.A.T. was on call, my brother Nathan was on primaries. They were the guys who were sent to the situations first when S.W.A.T. was called in and there were only about 20-25 of them. Secondary S.W.A.T. were just the guys who were called in as backup and who were more experienced cops that got kitted up. I walked over to the 20 year-old receptionist Maria who was sitting at the desk in the main hall. She knew me a little bit, I didn't know her too well though.

" May I help you Officer Brewer?" She asked looking up form her terminal computer.

" Yes why is primary S.W.A.T. being sent to the 'coon city mall?" I asked her.

" Oh there is a cannibal outbreak out there." She replied looking back to her monitor. " They've been dispatched to round up and secure the living civilians who are taking shelter inside the mall."

She knew too much for a receptionist.

I turned away from her and walked over to the east wing's door. Spencer my own flesh and blood was going into a cannibal nest. And I remembered what Jill had said;

__

" Basically if a human is infected with the T-virus in any way they turn into a zombie."

I couldn't let that happen to my brother. I had to warn him, and I only had ten minutes to do so. I hurried over to the eastern wing and yanked the door open. I hurried past a patrol boy coming from inside the detective's division, and stepped through the double blue doors. Inside the detective's division, phones were ringing off the hook, people were shuffling through files and detectives yelled things back and forth between each other. I passed by Frank whom was sitting in his little office with the door opened, he was talking on the phone to someone; Maybe the chief. I decided to do an about face and walked into the office dropping the shotgun on his desk. He looked up at me confused.

" Hold onto it for me for a little bit." I said. He nodded and went back to his phone call. I walked around the corner and literally ran into something. The person stumbled back in surprise and looked at me. I noticed he was in full S.W.A.T. garb including a gas mask. There was a Glock 9mm strapped to their side.

" Sorry my fault." I said dusting myself off. The S.W.A.T. took off his helmet and I immediately recognized my brother Nat. He totally looked different than me, with his short brown hair and goatee. Like I said he took after my father's side.

" Hey Ryan." He said. " Whats up?"

"Nat you heard the call right?"

" Yeah I know were being dispatched to the Raccoon Mall, to take care of some cannibals who attacked the shoppers there." He replied.

" They aren't cannibals, they're fucking real life Zombies, the stuff George Romero movies are made of. If they bite you you'll turn into one of them. Jill Valentine told me."

" Ryan I'm not stupid, there is no such thing as fucking zombies. Christ you watched too much Dawn of the dead when we were kids." He said pushing away and putting on his Gasmask. " And don't listen to Valentine or any of those S.T.A.R.S., they're fucking delusional!"

I watch as my brother opened the break room hall door and slip inside. That wouldn't be the last time I would see my brother. No. I had to warn the chief.

September 26th, 1998- 8:09 p.m.

Brian Irons office, Raccoon City police department 2nd floor

" What do you mean you don't believe me?!" I screamed slamming my fist on the desk. " I'm fucking telling you that these aren't cannibals but actual zombies!"

" When S.T.A.R.S. came back from the mansion they were delusional from fatigue and dehydration." Irons responded. " The possible comprehension that zombies or anything they else saw is utterly hogwash."

I was sitting in Brian's office now across from him at his desk. I had just explained to him about the zombies and Jill's report.

" Yeah well how do you explain Alpha team and Captain Wesker not coming back? Or the giant ass explosion in the forest?" I shot back. " Plus these cannibals are not very lively anymore, and then the bite victim in the morgue my partner and I took down earlier?"

" Alpha team was killed in their chopper crash and Wesker was killed when the mansion exploded to what the arsons investigation led to a gas leak. The only reason why the bodies weren't recovered was because the explosion took everything out in a half-mile radius!" Brian replied.

" Pretty big explosion for a gas leak!" I shot back with. " And what about the zombies-"

" I DONOT WANT OT HEAR OF THIS RUBBISH ABOUT ZOMBIES!" Irons roared. " Ryan Brewer you are the lead detective on the cannibal murders and all I'm hearing form you is campfire tales about zombies! I expect better than this from you! Now get out of my office before I take your shield!"

Pouring steam, I got up from the desk and strode out of his office, slamming the door behind me. That sonovabitch had to know something. Maybe he was being paid off by Umbrella to keep his mouth shut about something. Obviously something was going on in this town behind closed doors, I mean Umbrella basically is the number 1 funder of Raccoon. I think I would check out the water treatment plant across town that Umbrella owned.

And then I remembered…

__

"Did he get bitten?"

That sadistic bastard knew…and yet he wasn't telling anyone in the station. Umbrella had to be paying him off.

TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
